Thursday, July 21, 2011


I still like the sealife more - in a sexual way. It was easier to write about the octopus than the dog. Even in the edits I can sense the difference. If I had to have sex with a non-human creature it would be something aquatic. I know this as I pull the salmon out of the net. A pang of guilt, it is dying, drowning in air. Still it's body is lithe and silver and the slipperiness of it is sensual. Even as it dies I think of sex. I bring the club down hard on the back of its head. Blood in the eye. I kill it and I know there is something wrong with the fact that I am enjoying the slip of its body in my hand as it dies. Batailles is right at my shoulder. Sex, death and fish. I am sure this is wrong on so many levels.

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